


Peter, unmasked

by scottmchungup



Series: Reasons why Peter Stark is grounded till forever [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, M/M, Superfamily, Superfamily (Marvel), also this will have the actual wedding in it, and a tony/steve plot independent of Peter (altho he'll be a major part of everything), big yikes has a sister and its this fic!, but we'll get through it together, dont call it a comeback!, for the woke kids, it be like dat sometimes, oh and like a tasteful dabble of thorbruce, or do bc i definitely left for a hot sec, the plot is a real messy bitch, we'll see if TS does tho whOOPS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 03:23:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottmchungup/pseuds/scottmchungup
Summary: The secret's out for those in the inner circle, and Peter Parker Stark now equals Spider-Man. And apparently also equals grounded. With no suit, no secret, and no wiggle room will Peter turn to the normal everyday high school student he's meant to be, or the hero he aspires to?Flip the coin over, and Tony Stark is left between a rock and a well-meaning, but poor common sense son as he struggles to come to terms with yet another member of his family painting a target on their back. The Stark/Rogers wedding is now only two months away, and yet the family happiness and strife has no time to wait.A follow up fic to 'A spider by any other name' !





	1. Iron Dad and Iron Mad

**Author's Note:**

> we back in this bih!!! So a couple of notes before I begin on my newest trash compliation:  
> 1\. One main thing i hated about asbaon was how easy I fell into cliches, so the characters in this fic will (hopefully) be more real, and make more mistakes independent of 'meaning well'. Ish. I'm still a fool for a good 'no, I'll DIE for YOU' plot.  
> 2\. There are two movies that kind of shaped this fic and if u can guess them then ur an Avenger, I don't make the rules sorry.  
> 3\. If you didn't read asbaon you'll be a lil confused about the details, but can ultimately get along. The basic plot (spoiler alert!) is that Peter kept this secret for too long and then was kidnapped, tortured, and Tony saved him in the last second. Again, you'll be fine since this plot is different but if you're like 'hey I've got 6 chapters worth of time to kill' it's a nice opener (in my totally unbiased opinion)  
> 4\. This chapter is a LOT of dialogue and (related to #3) has a lot to do with the first fic. It explains a lot of where the characters are and how they get to certain points in the story but that's a convo for a later date  
> 5\. AND THIS IS IMPORTANT: i love u. The response on my first fic was mind-blowing and I'm still reeling so thanks for being so sweet and I hope you like the follow up!

He’d never really realized how fascinating his wrists were until this moment. They held a light spatter of freckles, and a mole below his wrist that almost looked like cheesy mouse ears if he squinted. Now they still had some red discoloration from the days previous, and if he bent it wrong it still stung a little, but otherwise remained unchanged. He’d never really understood the phrase ‘know it like the back of your hand’, but while he sat literally twiddling his thumbs in the Tower’s conference room he was really starting to figure it out.

It had been two days since the events of Hammer. The Hammer chronicles. The Hammering. Whatever else he could think of he would, because letting his mind wander was infinitely better than meeting the patronizing gazes of his family. Yesterday had been all reunions and glad-to-have-you-back’s but with Peter’s speedy recovery they’d gone from ‘Happy family’ to the loving integrity of a wet cracker real quick. Everybody aside from Tony, Steve, and Bruce were sitting in front of Peter right now, and while he may look interested as he raises and lowers his chair over and over again, he’d actually rather be in the hospital wing. Or buried beneath that warehouse, or hell, even waking up to Tony’s frantic eyes in the Medbay. And that’s saying something.

“so…” he voices, trying to break the tension. His parents and Bruce had stayed back to look at some of his medical charts before the lecture (with featured guests such as his entire family!) and the time lapse between the actual scolding and now was almost as choking as the actual ordeal would be.

“How ‘bout them Mets?” No one took the bait. Instead, he actually thought he might’ve gotten more of a reaction out of this crowd if he had just stayed silent. But silent was like the antonym for Peter Stark.

“Or the weather? Not that I know much about that. Bed rest. House arrest. Little bit of both… I don’t know, Ned told me it rained last night.” Again, no reaction. Everyone but Rhodey weren’t even looking at him, and Rhodey was regarding him like a sad, kicked puppy. “---And that people still smile out there. Do people still smile out there, I don’t----“

Finally the doors at the far end parted and in walked the rest of the congregation. Tony looked much as he had since Singapore--- sunken and like his last good night of sleep had been in his early twenties, but slowly getting better. The dark circles underneath his eyes were still there--- yes, but significantly lighter than the days previous. Steve looked about the same, and Bruce---- well, as far as Peter could tell Bruce was born perpetually exhausted by life. Peter’s ramblings ended at the site of his parents, and they took the honorary seats at the other end of the table. This was like the parent-teacher conference from hell.

For a fraction of a second, Tony and Peter make eye contact. It’s not like they hadn’t been attached by the umbilical cord since Tony found him in that warehouse, but something about the setting changed the dynamic from comfort to business. Peter attempted a smile that probably looked strained. The sentiment was not mutual.

“Do you want to start at the beginning, Peter?”

Peter purses his lips as if in deep thought and keeps his eyes trained on his hands. How exactly is he supposed to trapeze the mine field of the Oscorp story when Tony already has a social bounty out for the Osborn’s?

“Well….”

“How could you not tell us?”

Peter was actually surprised he had gotten out one word before Tony had cut in.

“because---- because….” How could he say this in a way that didn’t blame Tony or implicate Peter? He hadn’t told Tony not because he didn’t trust him, but because he didn’t want to burden him. Not that Tony would take that answer graciously.

“Go on…”

“Because you wouldn’t have let me! You would have started babying Spider-Man, and then Spider-Man wouldn’t be a secret anymore. I mean, if all the Avengers started treating Spider-Man like family, wouldn’t it be kind of easy to correlate the last Stark family member and the last un-masked superhero? And that’s even without factoring in the fact that you’d never let me join the fight!”

There were mumbles in the group that sounded like agreement, but Tony ignored them.

“And if you had gotten hurt? No excuse me---- _when_ you got hurt, what was your plan then?”

Truth be told he hadn’t really planned on getting caught. Call it cockiness. Or maybe naivety.

“Apologize?”

Tony sighed and pushed up from his chair to ‘look out the window’ which was code for counting his breaths to calm down. Steve took this moment to intervene.

“We’re not mad, Pete-----“

“We’re furious!” Tony interjected, but otherwise allowed Steve to continue after the look given by Cap.

“---we just don’t understand it. You couldn’t have told just one of us?”

“Anyone I tell would feel some obligation to tell either you or dad! Everyone in this room basically has a ‘no secrets’ pact with someone else, and it would’ve been just a matter of time before it wasn’t a secret anymore. If I had told anyone, then they’d be sitting here getting reprimanded too!”

“We’re not reprimanding you, Pete. This isn’t meant to be an interrogation.”

Yeah, Peter thought sarcastically. Tell that to the Iron time bomb.

“What about us? You couldn’t have told us when we were storming the castle?” Sam, seated on the far right and motioning between him and Bucky gathered the attention then.

“If I had told you, would you really have let me go in solo to fight the Vulture?”

“YOU DID WHAT?” Tony, who Peter had momentarily forgotten about piped up from his role in the corner. Shit. Peter forgot that Tony, while knowing the big thing was still a bit fuzzy on the details.

“We didn’t know it was Peter!” Bucky argued.

“I’ll deal with _that_ later.” Tony answered simply, and pulled his glasses off his face just long enough to rub his tired eyes.

 “What about when you saw it was me being interrogated?” Natasha redirected the attention. That one was trickier, because Peter genuinely just stumbled into that scenario.  

“A little bit of bad and good luck.”

“And what about when Bruce saved your life? Would you say good luck, then?” Tony strode back to the table and placed both his hands in front of him so that he was now hunched over the table. Tony was the leader of a multi-billion dollar company, and yet never before had Peter seen Tony so business. He wasn’t even resorting to his old quips like his primary function was programmed to.

“Bad?” Peter guessed, clearly wrongly. Half the room groaned and treated Peter like he’d just dug his own grave while the other half looked away in discomfort.

“I didn’t bring everybody here to publicly humiliate you, that’s not the point of this.” Tony took a steadying breath and looked at the non-descript table for far longer than necessary.

“Spider-Man is done. If anybody---- especially the media asks any of you about Spider-Man you answer that you don’t know him, but heard he retired. And he is definitely not an Avenger. Am I clear?”

Everybody save for Peter agreed verbally.

 “Retired? but---“ Peter started, but was promptly cut off.

“Then we’re done here. Peter, Bruce, and Steve hang back, everybody else you’re dismissed.”

Everybody left like a funeral procession with only a scattered number of pitied looks back. Rhodey gave him a supportive nod that meant ‘we’ll talk later’, and Bucky looked equal parts worried and guilty as he analyzed Peter. Wanda, Sam, and Clint gave him a superficial smile, and Natasha didn’t even spare a glance. There were a lot of sorry’s he’d have to get through later, but more pressing matters were at hand. Eventually the hall had cleared out and now it was Peter, at one side of the table, staring down the Hulk, Captain America, and Iron Man at the other end.

 “We took a look at your charts. Heightened senses, agility, stamina, reflexes, healing. What did you say Brucie, 3x that of a normal human?”

“Four in terms of----“

“If you got shot it would heal---- around the bullet in a matter of hours. And, since apparently I have to physically say it or you take the grey area----- that is not an example you should try to replicate. Anyway, all of that couldn’t have come from tech.” Now that he mentioned it, Peter’s wrists did kind of feel barren without the cool metal of the shooters wrapped around them. “----What really happened? I want the only people to know this story to be the ones in this room, so after this no talking about your… _condition_ , you understand?”

Peter nodded, swallowed the lump in his throat and dove into the beginning of a very long tale. “Well, it all started as Oscorp…”

Surprisingly the usually vocal Tony Stark sat quietly in his chair for the whole story. Bruce and Steve asked more questions than his father, and frankly gave more expression to the highlights. When Peter mentioned the bite and the wave of sickness that came over him in the following days, their face showed sympathy, and when he talked about the first time he tested out his powers, they showed intrigue. When the part about Uncle Ben came up Bruce and Steve sympathized (Tony was the only one who knew the details about that day beforehand), and when he talked about his previous encounters with the Vulture they asked why he didn’t call for the Avengers then. Tony however sat uncharacteristically stoic throughout the entire ordeal and only when Peter started wrapping up did he even shift his position.

He had just come full circle to the blast that got Peter spinning into the adjacent wall and Hammer’s face looming over his when he realized he’d come to the part of the story they knew.

“So… yeah. That’s about it.” Peter finished lamely. Tony nodded and rose from his seat.

“And you didn’t think we’d be interested in this fascinating trilogy?”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.” Peter confessed.

Tony’s eyebrow quirked and a hand raised to his goatee like he was in deep thought. He nodded to himself as if coming to an agreement and kept his eyes trained on something un-seeable to Peter’s eyes as he dealt the final blow.

“Yeah, you’re uh…. _grounded_. That is the term, right, Steve?” Steve shook his head as a tacit way to say ‘don’t bring me into this’ and when Tony rounded on Bruce he was met with the same sentiment.

“ _Spineless_. Anyway, yes grounded. Until… forever. Or until Firefly returns, whichever comes first.”

Peter stuttered through a few syllables before finally finding his voice. Not to sound like a complete loser, but he’d never done anything ever remotely warranting of a scolding. “Grounded? But it’s summer! And you’ve already taken the suit!”

“I think I’m being fairly lenient with the sentencing given the circumstances. Grounded. When it starts, you go to school and back, with no detours. Happy will drive you every day, and you’ll spend the extra time it takes from the tower to Midtown thinking about any other secrets you’d like to disclose. Grounded means your days are filled with homework and chores, alright? No parties, no extracurriculars----“

“----but the decathalon----“

“----and no Ned.” That stunned Peter enough to shut him up momentarily.

“Wait, what? No _Ned_?!”

“No Ned. Considering my definition of ‘sleepover at Ned’s’ and yours seem to vary, they’re cancelled until we find a mutual definition. You two can study at school during lunch or free period or whatever, but as soon as 3:00 hits, you come straight home.”

“Sir, Ms. Potts on the line for you.” FRIDAY interjected.

“Perfect, send her to my office, I’ll take it there.”

Tony pointed back to Peter and emphasized his point “Grounded. And no loop holes, you understand me, kid?”

Peter mumbled his agreement and Tony took it before making his grand exit. Steve and Bruce were soon to follow with sparse words traded between the trio until eventually Peter was left to himself---- head bowed in his arms and greeted only by the company of FRIDAY who was asking if Peter still wanted ‘all star’ by Smash Mouth to play every time Peter’s heart rate dipped too low.

 

 

 

Three light raps on the door and Peter debated between feigning sleep, and just flat out requesting no visitors. He’d had a day chock full of people reveling in his mistakes and he would really just like for his blankets to swallow him whole now. Without an audience, for once.

Giving too much time to choosing, the owner of the knocks opened the door and slipped in with a light “Peter?” regardless of Peter’s approval.

Dammit. If it were Tony he could have played sleep to avoid the lecture, and if it were Rhodey he could have played the ole sick nephew card----- but Steve was the kind of person to sit bedside as you sweat out the worst of it. Steve was the kind of person who didn’t believe in personal space when it came to trouble and if Peter was being honest that was exactly what Tony needed. Tony loved to bottle up his emotions like a bad Molotov cocktail and let no one know the worst of it until it explodes. And Peter did feel bad--- the months leading up to the wedding were not supposed to be so… _tense_. They were supposed to be filled with Tony and Steve pretending not to be as love sick as they are, and giggling about their not-so-subtle flirting like Peter was still too young to understand the implication. Steve was exactly what Tony needs to stabilize, but the absolute last thing Peter needs right now is another therapist.

 “Hey, Steve.” Peter greeted blandly. Maybe if he just let Steve say his peace, then Peter could commence the sad nap he had planned on taking. Consciousness wasn’t really doing him any favors right now. “what’s up?”

Steve took a seat at the foot of Peter’s bed, and used his typical Steve look of understanding. Captain America was a force to be reckoned with--- feared even, by enemies. But _Steve Rogers_ , with his wide blue eyes, and general capacity to care about everything that breaths was like kryptonite, even to Peter’s sour mood.

“Are you okay? I get the super healing thing better than anyone, but I also know the mental toll it takes. It’s okay to admit it’s all been a bit much.”

“I think I reached ‘a bit much’ as soon as I walked into Oscorp two years ago.” Peter joked, hoping to get those damn imploring eyes from analyzing him. Steve was going to do what Steve does best and ‘make him feel better’ or whatever and honestly Peter was just really in the mood to brood™.

“I’m not here to scold you, Peter. And don’t think for a second that Tony likes playing the bad guy either. You’re his world. I genuinely think if you and I were hanging over a cliff and Tony had to choose who to save, that he would choose you twice just to make sure the decision stuck. And I’m his _fiancé.”_ Peter laughed hollowly, and let his head hit the wall behind him. Oh guilt, you everlasting mistress.

“I know it sounds childish, but… I’ve never had him so mad at me before. Yelling I could take, but every time I look at him it’s like I’m betraying him all over again.”

“You’ve got to let him get it out, Pete. When we got you to Medbay and you passed out… you didn’t see Tony. I’ve never seen him so cracked. So broken. You really scared him.”

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched together, and he began to bite down on his lower lip. No offense to the Captain, but this pep talk sucked.  

“When I first met him I thought he didn’t take anything seriously, or hell, even care about anyone.” Steve’s gaze had shifted to the corner of Peter’s room where a framed picture of he, Tony and Steve resided from just a few years previous. Tony had his ‘Captain America’ shirt on (the one Steve hated) and Steve and Peter were laughing wholeheartedly at something a coy Tony had told the group and the camera man (Rhodes). “-----This was before the Avengers, so truthfully I didn’t even know you existed. Your dad was very careful with who knew about you.”

 Peter knew all this. Steve was a nostalgic guy---whether intended or not and although Peter had only fell under Tony’s care when Mary and Richard Parker died, for years after that Tony did all that he could to keep Peter out of the spotlight. Eventually the press found out, they always do but after the Avengers assembled it became a lot easier to dodge the cameras when Natasha and Thor were your bodyguards.

“But I know better now. Your dad cares too much. And frankly I think he takes everything to heart. I think he blames himself for all of this. Truthfully, he would find more comfort in you being a gun-wielding, drug smuggling, super villain than a superhero. He finds our line of work… _problematic_. And he’s always wanted better for you.”

“All of you---- my dad included save people! What is the difference if I’m the one helping?”

“Pete… do you remember New York? You were young, I know, but do you remember how Tony literally died for a minute? When I dove into the ocean all those years ago I knew I was going to die. But I knew as Captain America I had a responsibility to uphold and so I took that plunge ready to meet my maker. Everybody in that conference room has had more dances with the grim reaper than any number could account for, and Tony can’t worry about the same fate for you.”

Peter remembers New York well. Too well, in fact. But didn’t that just strengthen his point?

“New York is my point! When you guys---- _my parents_ are out fighting the big bads am I supposed to stay at home and watch HBO? Learn from a phone call that my dad might not come home? I want to help, and I finally have the power to! You saw what I can do when we fought at that high school, and when you, dad and I fought the Vulture! I’m not a kid anymore, I’m someone who finally has the ability to help!”

“Pete…”

“No, Steve, I can’t be the only player benched! You were forging your documents to get into the war at my age, and Natasha was already like a level 2000 agent. I don’t want to be nerfed, I’m ready!”

“Peter, Nat and I are meant to be cautionary tales, not inspirations. I was in way over my head back then and I lost way more than I can ever get back. Bucky is a blessing I thank every day for, but that doesn’t mean I lost more than I was willing to bargain. Natasha didn’t have people who cared around her until Clint, and then the Avengers and both of those were fairly recent. You have the opportunity to be better than all of us. And I got to say, I agree with Tony on this one. And that’s not just because of that video, which by the way Pete, can never be erased from any of our memories.”

Peter mulled over that and was pissed to find out he somewhat agreed with Captain do diligence. “If they had given you the serum…” He started, moving his eyes to meet Steve’s slowly, as if the time between could make the tension disappear. “If you had all the powers you do now, but they still didn’t let you use them to save the people you love, would you go down quietly?”

If Steve---- with his moral compass always pointed due North said yes, then either he was lying or Peter really did have to re-evaluate his reasoning. Instead of answering Steve just let the thought simmer.

“If the roles were reversed and you had been sent Tony’s ransom would you really be waving him off the next day?”

Peter took a page out of the Captain’s book and neglected to answer.  

“I hate it when you make sense.” Peter mumbled his confessed.

Steve laughed. “You get that from your father.”

Steve pushed off from the bed and ruffled Peter’s hair like he was ten and still star struck by the star spangled hero that frequented his house. Despite the situation, Peter smiled back. “Thanks, Steve. I promise to stop stealing your wedding’s thunder. Best Man extraordinaire at your service now. That is, if Tony still wants me to…”

“No one else he’d want at that alter---- including me. Although, yeah, if you don’t mind having these last two months be surprise-free I think that voids you of having to get us a present.”

“Two months?” Peter asked surprised. Last he heard the wedding was set for next year.

“Yeah, well, after the events of last week Tony said it ‘took more years off his life span than he had to spare’ and asked for a more intimate affair and a sooner date. Two months to the day, actually.”

Peter nodded, both pleased that the wedding was on and stronger than ever, and a little sorry that he was the cause of the rush.

“Get some rest, son. It’s a new day tomorrow.”  

And just like Gandalf, or Dumbledore, or any other 1000-year-old pseudo-mentor left Peter to his own devices at the critical point in his plot arc. Superheroes weren’t made by following the rules, they were made from bending them--- and yet all of them had lost, or never had a family before becoming who they were today. If the choice was between the mask and Tony, there was no argument. But it was never that simple. Just as his dad always preached, he had to operate in the grey areas of life.

 

 

 

Tony heard the door creak and instantly regressed 40 years. He shut his eyes tight, held his head deep in the pillows and began to count his breaths to steady the rhythm. He knows where Steve went. He knows that Steve gets to play the good cop. And while he doesn’t necessarily resent it, he’s really not in the mood to celebrate it.

“Tony.” Steve’s voice lies just above a whisper, but loud enough so that Tony knows Steve doesn’t believe he’s actually sleeping. Well, Tony’s not done being dramatic. He never really is. Instead of turning to the voice of his fiancé, he chooses instead to dive deeper into his pillows and groan. A clear ‘don’t fuck with me’ sign, right? I mean that’s basic ASL.

“Tony, I know you’re not sleeping. No one sleeps with a half-finished algorithm on their opened hologram. Or at least you don’t, I don’t really know any other engineers.” Tony waved his right hand and the program he had been working on before getting rudely interrupted went down. There. No more half-finished anything, now it had to be clear he was asleep right?

“Babe, come on… nothing bad happened. We talked about you the whole time.” Suddenly Tony’s bare back has warmth on it, and despite his mind’s opposition, he finds himself melting to the touch. The hands are big and calloused and so unmistakably Steve’s that Tony knows even his dreams couldn’t do this sensation justice.

 _No!_ Stop it, brain! Dudley Do-Right here is a traitor akin to that of Judas. Tony didn’t like being the bad guy but clearly trusting your son was a fool’s game. Someone has to set the rules to ‘no super-heroing in the house’ and considering Tony is one of the last parental figures, it’s got to be him.

“Did you talk mutiny, Judas?” Tony mumbles into the pillow, trying to make his voice bite but ultimately losing its severity when Steve’s touch is distracting. _Focus, Stark!_

“Don’t be like that. He loves you, he just… didn’t want your opinion of him to change.”

“I didn’t want his vital status to change. We’ve all got our shit.” Tony still hadn’t flipped over, and now his reasons for that was shifting from wanting to be alone, to not wanting Steve’s touch to leave. He had been through hell and half this past week, and if something so much as a door closing happened out of turn, Tony might drop dead from a heart attack. It was nice to have Steve to hang on to, but troubling that he was burdening Steve so early on. If people fell out of love for the same reasons they fell into it, didn’t that statistically mean that Steve was going to get tired of all of Tony’s problems eventually?

“I’m not here to tell you what to do. Hell, I don’t even know what to do. But I am here to tell you not to fall down that hole. I know you, and I know what you’re thinking. You’re not your father. You’re better than him in every way, and Peter loves you more than you care to admit.”

That was Tony’s problem with letting people in: they know the pressure points. They provide weak spots, places where people could hurt you. Obie, Howard, hell every person he ever met before the Avengers… they all used information Tony had willingly given up to deal the final strike. Shaking off Steve’s hands, Tony pushes up from the bed. He doesn’t want to talk about Peter, and he most definitely does not want to talk about Howard. At least Howard didn’t care where his son was on a Friday night, but Tony felt as if the mystery might eat him whole.

“That’s easy for you to say, Howard actually loved you!”

Now that he’s staring him down, Tony can see the exhaustion in Steve’s blue hues. They both stayed day and night at Peter’s bedside, but Steve never let the tiredness affect his mood. He was steady and constant and far better than Tony deserved. Fuck, what was Captain life-in-order doing with the physical representation of a car wreck anyway? Was this life the love child of _The Bachelor_ and _Survivor_? See how long it took someone to crack after living with Tony Stark?

Infuriatingly, Steve didn’t even stoop to Tony’s dig. Instead his blue eyes lowered, his frown deepening, and his face preaching pity that Tony most definitely did not want. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s not your fault. He’s a kid, who just wants to help----- he got that from you!”

“Believe me, I know it’s all on me. Your bedside manner is abysmal, Rogers.”

Steve sighed, rolled his eyes and then moved to the edge of the bed where his hands could gently lie on either side of Tony’s forearms. There was no longer any space between them and nowhere else to look but in those soft blue eyes that swam like the ocean. He needed to get Steve glasses. Thick ones, and reflective preferably so that Tony didn’t bend to his every whim and fancy at the bat of an eyelash.

“I’m not saying you’re to blame, I’m saying _you_ are the reason Peter’s heart is so big. Why he feels the need to protect the little guy, and defend the masses. He’s watched you save people left and right, and he watched you take that missile up into the wormhole in New York. He just wants to help people, the same as all the Avengers. His outlet was a little misguided but that’s why he has us---- for guidance. Give him time. Give yourself time. Both of you are trying to say ‘I love you’ it’s just getting translated poorly.”  

Fuck, what rom com did he get that from?

“So you want me to pat him on the back and say ‘go get ‘em, Tiger’? What happens if I get another video like that, Steve? I don’t think I’ll survive it again.” Or if he will survive it either.

“I’m not saying let him lay down his life----- No, I definitely agree with the ‘retired suit’ call, but I am saying you both went through something traumatic. Wait until the air clears and then face the problem rationally.”

Tony sighed. Part of the reason Tony loved Steve so much was his ability to think clear when Tony’s coded mind turned to TV static. But it had only been a week. A week since Tony watched Spider-Man unmask and reveal a face he knew hauntingly well. Steve was right, time was what he needed, but Tony’s not so sure the universe will give him that. What he needs is for Peter to stop, just for a second so Tony can get his affairs in order. For Peter to know when to fight and when to fly, and most importantly to stop parading around in that glorified onesie------

“Oh.” His mind always worked faster than his words ever could, but this time it was with an actual useful epiphany. He grabbed the shirt he’d left at the foot of his bed, slipped it on and headed for the door in an antsy frenzy of creativity. Steve watched the dance with confusion evident on his handsome face, and only objected when Tony had the door already open.

“I thought you were tired?” He joked, rolling onto a lonely bed. Tony was quite possibly the worst to share a bed with. He had the sleeping hours of a newborn, and even then at least a newborn slept when they were tired. Tony just did a line of coffee beans and then pounded back a few Red Bulls that would last him for just about 3-4 business days or until he crashed on his work station of servers and mother boards.

“I was until you woke me up.” He winked, and rushed out the door with a million thoughts swimming in his head. It was well past midnight, and he’d work far into ungodly hours and for the first time in what felt like years, he was actually relieved to be Tony Stark.

If you always think three steps ahead, then you’ll never fall behind.

…Right?


	2. Nerfed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has nothing to do with the story but every time I watch any mcu movie I cannot stop myself from thinking 'Tony deserves better'. Even in movies he's not even in, Tony Stark deserves better thanks for coming to my ted talk. 
> 
> ANYWAY this is where the plot starts. It's messy but leads into something better later on I promise

Thirty seven hours and 30 minutes. Well, now thirty one minutes but who’s counting?  Thirty seven hours, 31 minutes and some odd seconds Tony Stark has spent glued to his work bench. His eyes were starting to feel unnaturally dry, and all words looked grossly misspelled but surely necessary did not have that many c’s? Whatever, that wasn’t the important thing. The important thing was it only took him a day and a half to completely understand this damn formula. Simple webbing is easy, making something stick isn’t the problem. It’s the consistency that intrigued him so, and dammit if Peter wasn’t his kid.

He’d applaud the ingenious of it if he wasn’t still literally fuming out the ears. I mean, the kid was smart---- he was Tony’s after all, but this was truly inspired. It held the grip and integrity of an elevator levy, and yet also held the dexterity and flexibility of string. Inspired. Inspired by wrong, misguided and secretive plans, sure, but genius nonetheless. And he’d finally gotten to a point that at the very least mimicked his kids.

“Sir, Captain Rogers is inquiring about your whereabouts.”

Shit. Tony told him he’d get some sleep today, but he hadn’t been able to perfectly replicate the formula until now, and even now he knew outliers like extreme heat or freezing temperatures could ruin his batch. Tony rubbed his eyes, and attempted to flatten his hair as he mumbled “Tell him I just woke up and went to the labs”, just as he saw Steve’s form on the outside of the glass surrounding his lab. Attempting to seem cool, Tony hastily closed the program he was working on, and placed his prototype in one of the drawers just as Steve finished inputting his password to enter the lab.

“Or I will…. Steve! Isn’t it bad luck to see each other before the wedding?”

Steve’s look was judgmental and just a light dash of disappointment, and not to be dramatic but if another person in his life was going to scold him for his poor emotional handling skills he was going to take the reactor out of his own chest and walk backwards into hell himself.

“That’s the day of. Not weeks before, and definitely not when you’re running on fumes alone.”

“Actually, I ran out of fumes a few hours ago.”

Rather than respond, Steve crossed his arms and stared Tony down in a way that made Tony feel a strange mix of reprimanded and a little turned on.

“I came in here to tell you about a new case, but clearly you’re preoccupied with working yourself into a coma.”

A case was actually just what Tony needed. A distraction, actually because although he and Peter were no longer walking on eggshells around each other anymore, it still wasn’t back to their easybreezey relationship that had always been like a breath of fresh air to the older man. Every time he looked at that face, he saw the mask in front of it, and worse, the blood on it. And then he’d find himself neck deep in another lecture that had Peter squirming like a tap dancer, and Tony would realize it was better if he just kept the commentary to himself for once. Peter was doing well. It had been a month since Hammer, and Spider-Man was slowly becoming a memory to Queens. Almost as if it had never happened.

“What’s the case?”

Steve gave Tony a once over, as if to make sure he wouldn’t pass out right here and now, and then proceeded when Tony showed no signs of toppling.

“Well, we’re not sure it’s a case yet. Nurse came in when Bucky and I were in the office for case work. She said she’d gotten three different instances of people who have blacked out, done something horrible, and then woken up with no recollection of how they got there or what they did. She said she wouldn’t have reported it at all, except that all the tests came back negative for drugs & alcohol. Two out of the three had no previous records, and the third was for petty theft so murder didn’t fit the M.O.”

Tony bit his lip. It was a sensitive topic, but it had to be breached. “No memory murder? You don’t think…”

“No, it’s not like that. Bucky still had some recollection, even if it was hazy. And it took a lot to break him out of it, whereas these people black out, do the crime, pass out, and then return to their normal----if not confused selves.”

Hm. So, as of right now, HYDRA is off the short list. “What hospital does she work for? Did you tell her to call about any updates, I want first-hand information before the Avengers accidentally step into a new drug ring or something. We need proof it’s an enhanced substance worthy of the Avengers and not AA. These people could just be lying about whatever they took.”

Steve nodded, “Yes, she has our details. It’s between that or the robbery case, but considering it was Ross’ secretary who got robbed I’m inclined to say the Avengers are ‘busy.”

Tony hm’ed in agreement at that. If Ross wanted to prosecute them, then he damn sure couldn’t call on them when it was convenient. That was the diplomat’s way of saying he could fuck right off.

“We could make ourselves busy…” Tony replied in a low voice. He moved forward and allowed his lips to brush Steve’s for a second. Steve took the bait, and pulled him in tighter until they were all but laying on Tony’s work bench like two high schoolers making out at the lunch tables. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so tired anymore.

They were just getting into it, when Steve’s hand moved from Tony’s hips to the table for more leverage and accidentally knocked down a stack of papers Tony had thrown.

“Crap. Sorry.” Steve mumbles, breaking the kiss to pick up what he’d dropped. Tony tried and failed to hide his eye roll. Even in the middle of making out with his fiancé Steve still found the time to tip the moral scale in his favor.

“It’s fine, those papers are the least messy thing about my life right now.” Tony joked, wishing in that moment he could throw those files into a burning flame for interrupting his moment. When Steve popped back up, his mind was clearly elsewhere as he read through one of Tony’s sheets.

For a second, Tony’s heart stopped. If he had accidentally stumbled upon one of Tony’s plans for his ‘secret’ Spider project, he would have to dig himself out of his six foot deep grave now. Not to mention a lot of explaining to do. But he hadn’t written anything down, everything was on his system, so for now… the heart attack would have to wait. And it’s not like he planned on actually using any of the tech he built. It was merely preemptive. As clearly Tony had to plan for the worst case scenario in everything.

“Tony…” Steve mused thoughtfully, his blue eyes roaming over the page once, twice, three times as if making sure his vision wasn’t deceiving him. “Is his your side of the wedding invites?” For two of the world’s most prominent figures---- the Stark/Rogers wedding would be a rather intimate affair. All of Steve’s friends were long since passed, and Tony… well, Tony’s friend list was more like a list of people who could tolerate him, at best. Bruce & Rhodey were in his wedding party, and Pepper was all but coordinating it, so Tony’s actual list was rather short. Way to rub it in Rogers.

“Yeah. Finished it last night, now where were we-----“

“Are you sure this is your final draft for the wedding?”

Tony eyebrows pulled together in confusion. What was the hold up, Captain? Who had he missed that Steve would care about, especially enough to ruin the moment?

“You can’t take Clint off the list, no matter how funny it would be. I already thought about it, and I’d rather not be impaled at the altar.”

Steve’s eyebrows arched in an adorably confused look, and he held the two sheets again to examine as if he were missing it.

“No---no, you missed Thor. And you specifically told me not to add him to my side. I’m going to send him an invite, he probably already knows and is hurt we didn’t….”

“No!” Tony momentarily abandoned his plea to return to the make out and reached for Steve’s outstretched hand that was mere centimeters away from the screen. “No, don’t invite He-Man to the wedding.” He added hastily, as if that were all the explanation his soon to be husband needed. Where was the trust in this family? Was it really so much to ask for a little bit of blind faith in not inviting the long lost brother of Luke Bracey?

“What, why? He’s family! I’m pretty sure Peter would call a strike on our wedding if we didn’t invite Thor, he loves the guy! And so do I, and frankly, I thought you did too.”

Tony rolled his eyes. Of course he loved Thor, it was quite literally impossible to hate someone who was the human embodiment of a golden retriever. He wasn’t trying to mean-girl Thor out of the party, for once there was actually a method to the madness. “Thor’s coming, alright? I’ve got a plan.”

Tony smiled coyly, and Steve’s expression changed to that of skepticism.

“What are you planning?”

“This time? Something good. I gave Brucie a plus one, if you’ll notice. And our wedding is incredibly exclusive, so unless you are on that list or someone’s plus one then not even a king-prince-whatever he is now of Asgard can get in.”

Steve crossed his arms. “You’re gambling, Tony.”

“How so?”

“Well, betting that Thor won’t drop down here the second he hears everyone else was invited and not him. And two, that Bruce will put two and two together that he’s supposed to be the one who invites him. Three, that Thor can’t get past any security we put up.”

“Oh, I’ve been dropping hints that are not exactly subtle. And I made Bruce’s extra exclusive to ‘royalty only’ so unless he’s dating T’Challa…”  

Steve laughed, his golden hair shifting slightly from its precarious swirl on his forehead. Fuck, if there was one thing on this world he never thought he’d be: it was smitten. And yet here he was. Head over heels for someone who had probably reads the owner’s manual before using the appliance.

“Subtly isn’t your strong suit, is it?”

“Everybody’s got to have a weak spot.” Tony countered, before damning the rules and moving in for the sequel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So how mad is he?” As fucked up as it sounded---- Peter was actually finding school to be his happy place. When the metaphorical shit hit the hypothetical fan, Peter had been effectively kept under lock and key for the remaining weeks of summer. This was his first time seeing Ned since, well, the kidnapping and they had a lot of topics to burn through and only half an hour of lunch. Luckily after so many years of everyone either knowing he was Tony’s son and realizing he wouldn’t talk about it no matter how provoked (@Flash), or getting fooled by the last name ‘Parker’ he was relatively still at the bottom of the high school pyramid. And if that meant that his friends like Ned and MJ were genuine friends, and not just here for the perks that come with befriending the Avengers kid then he was pretty proud of being in the basement of popularity.

“Big mad, Ned. Big mad. We haven’t talked in weeks without it eventually turning into a lecture, and he cancelled Spider-Man! Took my suit and all.” Although most of the suit was fried to hell, it was the principle of the thing! He’d made that suit himself, made Karen off the same template FRIDAY was born from, and if he was being honest he got quite attached. He talked to Karen about more stuff than he told most people, and it was starting to get lonely with all these thoughts bottled up in his head and no outlet.

“No Spider-man!” Ned proclaimed in a high voice until Peter shushed him to a whisper. “No Spider-Man?” He whispered again, the shock clear in his wide eyes. “Like forever?”

Peter sighed, replaying both his conversations with Steve and Tony in his mind. Steve’s ‘give him time’ and Tony’s ‘when hell freezes over, thaws, and then gets swallowed by the cosmo’s’ giving him very different reads of the situation.

“I… don’t know, honestly. You didn’t see Tony when I woke up in that hospital bed he looked….” Broken. “Haunted.”

“Yeah, Peter I gotta say finding out you were kidnapped and almost killed wasn’t the best phone call I’d ever received. And knowing your dad hates me doesn’t rock either.”

“He doesn’t hate you Ned, he hates me. Or is ‘disappointed’ in me which of course is a thousand times worse.” Peter dropped his head into his arms and decided that if death came for him in that moment, he would welcome it like an old friend. He had never wished for things to be so blandly normal before in his life but for a minute, just one minute he wanted to stop being Peter Stark.

He was so wrapped up in teenage angst that his heightened senses didn’t even process the new addition to the lunch crew.

“Hey nerds. Hope you didn’t lose too many brain cells this summer because the first meeting is today. And don’t miss it because if we lose because of a technicality again I’ll… I’ll…”

“Scream?”

“I was gonna do that anyway, but sure, Leeds.”

Great. Another bomb delivered to an innocent bystander. Maybe someday he would stop disappointing everyone, but clearly today was not that day.

“A---actually I can’t be on the team this year. I’m grounded.”

Both Michelle and Ned gave him a dead stare that could have buried him where he sat.

“Your jokes aren’t funny, Parker.” Michelle’s gaze was unrelenting. They’d been getting along so well last year, and even hung out outside of school events and now with a simple phrase he had shattered that careful balance.

“I----I’m not joking. My dad grounded me till, like, forever.”

“Peter, you know they’re going to do Physics this year, you can’t back out now!”

“I’m not backing out! I swear, I want to, but unless you can take my attendance via FaceTime----- no that wouldn’t even work, I have child locks on my phone now…”

Michelle snorted and Peter shot her what he thought was a threatening glare, but did nothing to deter her laughs.

“Listen Peter, we need you. Sort out whatever super family shit you need to, but I expect you in practice by next week.”

Michelle left their table to visit Gwen before Peter could reply and instead he was left mouth open and staring wildly at Ned as if he held the answers.

“I think that’s MJ’s way of saying she misses you.”

“Yeah well if I ask Tony for a hall pass, she’ll being saying she misses me at my funeral.” And with that, the bell rang and all talk of his alter ego was dropped for a later date.

 

 

 

 

When the final bell rang, Ned and Peter took their time sauntering to the parking lot. With Peter’s new house arrest, he wasn’t exactly taking the bus home, and Ned’s mom always picked him up on the later scale of pick-up. Those few minutes between school and Happy were the only real moments of alone time he and Ned got, and Ned himself had quite the summer to discuss. He talked about his uncle who lived upstate, and how his sister had flown home for the weekend with her new boyfriend who was, for all intents and purposes, a dick. He talked about getting his work published in a scholastic summer math festival, and about how he had successfully coded his own semi-plausible spy wear which was huge, celebratory news. They were just on the cusp of old times when a faded blue mini-van pulled up and a face that looked pore-by-pore identical to Ned’s excitedly waved at the pair. Peter waved back with the same enthusiasm. As every other person on this planet did, he loved Mrs. Leeds.

Ned hopped into his mom’s van, and with that Peter was left to his own devices. It was 3:25, and while Happy was never on time, he was also never especially late. Peter pulled out his phone to check for any missed messages, and when he found none, searched the parking lot instead. Maybe Happy had made the out of character decision to park and get Peter, instead of waiting in the pick-up line like a normal human being.

In the parking lot, Mrs. Newberry was fumbling in her bag for the keys to her civic, the front desk Secretary Johnson was talking on his phone and two familiar figures were bickering next to a black SUV.

Wait, what the hell were Bucky & Sam doing here?

Peter shouldered his backpack and walked their way, neither of the superheroes noticing until Peter was within arm’s length distance and could hear their clearly heated discussion that had them preoccupied.  

“No, Buck, that’s not what booty call means…”

“What are you doing here?” Peter’s question stopped the argument mid-sentence, and they both looked surprised that Peter had snuck up on the highly trained superheroes. Bucky had his faded red hoodie on (in mid-September) that was just long enough on the cuffs to hide his metal arm casually, and his shaggy brown hair was thrown up into a messy man-bun. Sam did a lot less to go incognito, and was dressed comfortably in a baseball Tee, and a ‘ask me about my feminist agenda’ hat that did nothing to hide his features. Luckily, without the costumes on, it was a lot easier to hide Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson than say, Tony Stark & Steve Rogers.

“We came to pick you up, mini-Stark! Did you know Bucky can’t drive by the way?’

“What the hell, I can drive! My license is expired but that doesn’t mean I’m physically incapable of driving. Sam hit like every pothole on the way here, and-----“

“Did something happen to Happy?” Peter knows how easy Bucky & Sam’s pissing contests can go, and it’s really better for everyone involved to cut it off as it ramps up. He loves his uncles, sure, but he’s still not exactly clear on why they got stuck with babysitting duty.

“Why does something have to be wrong for us to see you? That hurts, Pete.” Sam raised a hand to his chest like Peter’s words physically impaled him. Lovingly, Peter rolled his eyes.

“And we told Happy to take the day off. Figured we haven’t seen you in a while since… _the thing,_ and no day like today, right?”

Peter was still skeptical, but followed the cue and hopped in the car regardless. Tony had said grounded from friends, fun, and sunshine, but he hadn’t said family. And if Bucky & Sam were here with Tony’s car, and Happy’s permission then clearly all the bases had been covered. And, he had missed Sam & Bucky wholeheartedly.. It was like being the drastically younger brother in an all-boys sibling dynamic---- and definitely the easiest role to fall into. They had fun, and messed with each other, and played stupid pranks like they were at a slumber party rather than living their life in the same vicinity, and that’s what Peter liked best and missed the most. The fun. Everything had been kind of strained since the big reveal.

The drive from midtown to the tower was thirty minutes (twenty if Happy was in ‘a mood’), and although their conversation made time fly by, Peter definitely noticed when the clock hit 4:00 and they still hadn’t arrived.

“Guys? Not to ride the ‘you can’t drive’ train, but I think we missed the Tower.”

“Oh shit, yeah, I forgot to mention the pit stop what with all of Bucky’s yammerings.” Instead of rising to the bait, Bucky just raised his arms in a ‘what the hell’ manner, as it was indisputably Sam who had been leading the conversation for the past half hour.

“Figured you could use a break. We found this really good Pho place in Soho, and if we bring you we figure we can use the Stark company card.” Sam was obviously kidding. First off, he would use the card regardless of who was with him (I mean, their official job is technically volunteer work), and secondly a free meal every now and then could not warrant years of love between the pair. Peter had been fairly stressed recently…. And he hadn’t had a meal outside of Stark Towers and Midtown’s cafeteria (that had to legally call their chicken strips just ‘strips’ for fear of lawsuit) in weeks. Ned brought him McDonalds once when he came in late after an appointment and Peter almost cried.

A few minutes later they had pulled up to the restaurant---- a small, hole in the wall place that was clearly situated on the outskirts of a city center and a residential area. For the first time in what felt like weeks, Peter was finally feeling like he used to. Maybe it was because of the familiarity of Bucky & Sam, or just the fresh open air, but the clouds were slowly fading. With enough time, maybe even Tony & Peter could get back to this rhythm.

“So what are the Avengers working on, now? This is the longest amount of time without some catastrophe that sends everyone in different directions since, like, that time we all went to France.” Bucky was already halfway through his bowl when the conversation changed from how unnecessarily tight the slacks for the wedding were, to real time stuff. He gave a look of apprehension at the words, and genuinely meant what he said when he spoke.

“Hey, don’t jinx it! This is my first month-long period of unemployment since…. The thirties.”

“We get it, you’re not Dumbledore old, but Gandalf old. No need to brag.”

“What?”

“Exactly.” Sam rolled his eyes as if physically pained by the notion that Bucky hadn’t seen Harry Potter or Lord of The Rings (Peter would fix that no doubt) and when back to his meal. Bucky, however, seemed unpleased with the ending of that conversation so soon.

“Anyway----- nerd----- our point in this is that you can always come to us. With anything. I know it’s been rough and I understand why you wanted to keep that to yourself but… you know, you didn’t have to go at it alone. You’ve always got us. We’re not here to parent you, but we’re definitely here to advise you should you ask. Or just… listen if you need it.” Bucky was fairly bad with the personal stuff and his cheeks had even reddened at the notion of ‘bearing his soul’ and that’s how Peter knew this was real shit. The whole point in not telling his family was not wanting to hurt them, and now he was facing the aftermath of that.

“Yeah, Pete, that’s what we’re here for. Support and whatnot.” Sam said, with a mouthful of noodles.

Peter took a breath. He’s no good with words, never had been. Coding, calculus, hell even quantum physics were easier to Peter than verbalizing emotions and yet here he was, between a rock and a metal-place, knowing if he didn’t clean up his mess, they’d sit in it for years to come.

“I know. I know it didn’t seem like I knew, but I know. You guys have always been family to me, I just… didn’t want to put you in that friend vs. guardian position, you know? If it makes you feel any better, you two were on the shortlist of people I’d tell first. And I came pretty close to it after that night too. ------But don’t tell my dad that, he’s already mad enough. I’m sorry. For lying, and having you find out the way you did, and basically everything else. I’m just… sorry.”

Neither Bucky nor Sam responded at first. They both just kind of looked at him with an unreadable expression, until Sam opened his mouth.

“So. Spider-Man, huh? Do you….” He made a rock on symbol with his hand and a ‘flwph’ sound with his mouth that Peter assumed was supposed to represent webbing. Peter laughed into his Pho.

“No, I----I make that. Web shooters, I mean.”

“So it doesn’t come from your body? Thank god, because I had a face full of that webbing for a good five minutes when we fought the Vulture.”

Peter winced. “Yeah, sorry about that too. Bad timing.”

From there, the conversation dipped into weird superheroes niches and new tech improvements on Sam & Bucky’s suits. The tech brought about conversations of the wedding (and the VIP guest list), which then brought them roundabout to Tony. Or at least Peter’s mind went there. He realized then that he hadn’t heard from Tony all day, and that in and of itself was a little worrisome. Quietly, Peter excused himself and used the alleyway next to the restaurant as a private call center. Either Tony was asleep (unlikely), furiously awaiting Peter’s late entrance (indifferent), or working himself into oblivion in his iron-lab (likely) and those last two options seemed worth interrupting. His thumb hovered over the call button when he noticed the hairs on his arm standing up straight. Oh no….

Worriedly he looked down the street, and just then, he noticed a man come into view. There was screaming and yelling as a figure rampaged through the people on the corner, and while most ran for cover, a few brave souls attempted to stop the chaos. Three people with their hands raised in a clearly defensive measure were trying to reign him in, but he was animalistic in his pursuit. He punched and swiped with shocking precision and when the first guy went down, Peter stepped forward to intervene. He reached to his wrists to activate the shooters, and realized with panic that his wrists were bare.

The second person went down and the third dodged a hit and did his best to drag his friends out of the way. There was still screaming--- both outside and in Peter’s mind, and foolishly his first thought was to ask Karen what was going on.

With his first victims running for cover, the guy with weirdly unfocused eyes was staring down the alley and straight at Peter as the only figure in his immediate vision still standing. _Shit._ Now was a really bad time to be grounded.

Think Peter, think! You still have enhanced reflexes, and healing so if it really comes down to it---- and as the man sprints towards him, it looks like he will---- you might win hand-to hand. Except that Peter has no idea what the hell this guy is on, and how hard Peter can hit without raising suspicions of superhero-ness at play especially with all the people undoubtedly dialing 911 right now. And at most, he has thirty seconds to solve all those problems and no solution to a single one. With how persistent this guy’s pursuit was, the only thing that kept the bloody men at the far end alive was that there were so many of them to keep his focus preoccupied whereas Peter was currently about to cage match this fight 1 v 1 style. Think dammit, think! WWTD? (What would Tony do?)

The guy is right in front of him now. In a straight button-down, casual work shoes, and wild, hazy eyes and the most genius thing Peter can think to do is shield his face. He raises his arms and waits for the first blow to be dealt. Once the first attack comes he can gauge how hard to hit back because that makes sense right? It comes down to self defense at that point, and he can claim adrenaline if he accidentally thwos a guy twice his size into the adjacent wall. He stays with his arms cowardly hiding his face for five seconds until he realizes he hit isn’t coming at all.  

“Thought you took a little long for a bathroom break.” Sam, who was now in hand-to-hand with only his ‘emergency Falcon’ weapons on, had just kicked the pseudo-zombie in the chest momentarily stopping his attack. The guy snarled---- actually _growled_ like an animal, and tried to claw Sam’s face off in retaliation. Bucky came from the right, and threw a left punch that to everyone’s surprise--- he caught. He smiled something sinister, and was just about to use this momentary lapse in movement for the White Wolf to his advantage when Sam fired one of the pocket blasters. The Walking Dead flew back a few feet with a scream, and taking some of Bucky’s left sleeve with him.

“ _Come on_ , dude. I only have like four jackets.” Bucky groaned, but didn’t miss a beat in his and Sam’s intricate partner fight. They moved as one single attack---but from two sides. It was inspiring to watch, if not a little saddening as Peter realized he could only be a bystander now. If it were a three-on-one fight this guy would be down within seconds, but Peter had literally nothing to attack with besides a few sarcastic comments. And the guy wasn’t brain dead at all. All his moves were calculated and fairly sophisticated, and Peter would just ruin the flow of things by trying to get involved.

When both Sam and Bucky did a flip move to confuse the attacker’s sight, and land behind him; they had his arms pinned down, and forced him to fall to his knees. Sam pulled some of Stark Industries motion suppressors and the guys hands were locked down. He was still thrashing wildly and making glottal sounds that sounded inhuman, but with his hands restrained he was essentially harmless. Sam stayed behind the guy, to keep his foot on his legs to stop him from running, while Bucky moved to address him directly.

“Who are you?” Now with his arm shiny and out for the whole world to see Bucky looked like the kind of person Peter could see history fearing. Gone was the man who told him Peter could could tell him anything, and now stood the guy who graced the FBI's most wanted for decades. 

The man in front of him, however did not seem fazed. He was breathing hard now, and blinking rapidly as if trying to process his thoughts and his actions in the same second. His eyebrows pulled together, and slowly, ever so slowly his eyes----which were green, Peter now realized, returned to a normal pallor just before closing indefinitely as the guy passed out. He went limp in Sam’s grip, and Bucky had to move quickly to catch him from falling forward.

“What the hell?”

Peter, Bucky, and Sam looked amongst themselves for a second, taking the moment to process the events that had just unfurled. It all happened so fast, and ended just as suddenly. Peter did nothing but he still felt an odd bubble of unease in his stomach. Was this a small part of an eventual bigger attack or just a classic case of wrong place, wrong time? And not to mention what the hell this guy was on that had him literally frothing at the mouth to take down anyone in sight.  

“Everyone good?” Sam asked. Bucky replied with a breathy ‘yeah’ and Peter’s ‘yes’ sounded more like a breath of air than an actual response. 

A crowd started forming around the trio, and sirens could be heard in the distance. Slowly, ever so slowly Peter was coming to again, and yet the only thing that seemed to cross his mind was one central question.

What the fuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, tell me what you think!!! If you want to see more of a certain character drop it in the comments and I'll be sure to throw them in the mixture or if you think a certain characters voice is all wrong pls @ me!! I would die for each and every one of these nerds so I wanna do them justice (*captain america breaks down my door bc i used the j word*). And also some slight thorbruce bc I am that. bitch. who needs to reference ragnarok at every moment possible. 
> 
> thanks for reading!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *shows up late to the update with starbucks* this chapter isnt my fave bc its a lil messy (bc i am trash with fight scenes) but it'll lead somewhere gucci so bear with me friends. also, THANK YOU for the positivity and absolute niceness im genuinely in love with all of u so hmu if u wanna elope.

“Did you know they charge you to cut your own cake?” Steve Rogers--- golden hair disheveled from what Tony could only assume was his motorcycles helmet entered Tony’s lab as if lady justice herself wept today.

Tony hid his small smirk behind his welder’s helmet, and gave one more great pull before the bolt came loose, and he was free to analyze the insides of the bot.

“We’re the ‘super-couple’, they’re going to charge us to smile in our own suits just because they know we can pay it, and they can get publicity.” Tony rationed, turning away from his work only far enough to wipe off some of the grease on his towel. Steve pushed up onto one of the (few) cleared table tops, and continued on his tales of woe.

“I’ve always hated being in the public eye, and they have this wedding posted as a power stunt. I read somewhere that we’re only getting married for the press.”

“Maybe I should take the part about loving you as much as this ‘publicity stunt’ out of my vows then…” Tony joked.

“Do that, and the press with just say I’m a gold digger... _Iron_ digger I guess. What I’m really trying to say is that I’m mostly excited for our honeymoon, because if I see so much as a mention of danger, invasion, or reporters I’m going to find a nice, abandoned island to live out the rest of my days.”

Hm, Tony actually hadn’t planned on bringing that up today, but since it was already in the air…

“About that… what do you think of making our honeymoon… longer?”

“Like an extra weekend? I don’t know, I agreed to some safety exposition with the FDNY and I don’t know how they’d feel about me playing hooky.”

Tony kept his thoughts trained on his trinkets, routing and rerouting the same wires in an attempt to hide his facial expressions. If Steve was already uncomfortable with an extra weekend, then he really wasn’t going to like what Tony said next.

“I was thinking more like… a year? Maybe more… We’d get out of the public eye for a little. No paparazzi, no stalkers, no threats. I don’t know, It might be nice…”

Steve’s head snapped up, and he let an uncomfortable laugh pass his lips as if he thought Tony were kidding. Distantly, it ticked him off a little but he reminded himself that in his stressed out state he was not allowed to let his frustration on the situation unload on Steve or Peter. For once, Tony would be at the wheel, not those pesky emotions. He’d thought this through and it was rational. Smart, even. Now he just had to put it into effect.

“You’re kidding. You were in Singapore for like two weeks and all you did was complain about how you missed New York. Now you want to move? What about the city? What about our family?”

Technically, Tony said he missed Peter. And his lab. And both of those would be joining him, but he’d let the technicalities slide.

“I am thinking of our family. Steve, listen---“ Tony let out an exasperated sigh and let his tinkering fall flat. He stood at full height (at least a head shorter than his fiancé but he ignored that), and looked with sincerity into those blue eyes that he was prey to. “I know you didn’t sign up for this secret-life, hectic modern family bullshit but we’ve got to think of us, first. I’m not saying we give everyone the finger and leave in the middle of the night, but I am saying we back off for a while. I’ll still make the Iron Man suit, and effectively control it, but would it really be so bad if we took a sabbatical?”

“Woah, woah, woah------ you want to leave New York _and_ give up Iron Man?  What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing’s gotten into me!” Tony argued. “But you can’t seriously tell me this is the life you wanted. That you like how  every night you go to bed there’s that little voice telling you it could be your last. Or Rhodey’s, or Bucky’s, or P----“ He bit his tongue there. Ever since that first night, they hadn’t really breached the spider subject and Tony had been so damn good about evading it. But in the heat of the moment he let it slip, and Steve Rogers was always perceptive.

His eyes softened, and his hands found Tony’s arms. Petulantly, Tony had the thought off shaking him off in an act of defiance, but honestly he really needed someone to help shoulder his weight. Damn Captain liberty and always knowing what to do.

“Is that what this is about? Peter? Because I don’t think he would want you to give up the suit. I know you both said a lot of things in the moment, but I don’t think Peter ever really wanted you to give up being Iron Man.”

If it were anybody else but Steve, Tony would have blew off the severity of the topic with an asinine joke and then made FRIDAY excuse him for something trivial. But this was Steve. And if he didn’t get this out now then it would literally eat him alive.

“I’m not doing this because of Peter, I’m doing it _for_ Peter. In every formula, I’m the bad influence. The root of the issue, the virus. I’m his father and all he’s ever seen me do is make the wrong choice, and I don’t want that life----- _this_ life----- for him. I love you, and what we’ve created but Peter’s _fifteen._ Maybe I’ve been a bad father for those fifteen years, but I’d like to break that cycle now.”

Tony was looking anywhere but at Steve, until the silence ended up swallowing him whole. When he did look up, it was to Steve’s pinched expression and such heart break that Tony decided then and there that he would stop causing that reaction in people. He was the least common denominator in all of these tragedies, so maybe it was time to remove himself. As selfish as it was, he could never leave Peter or Steve completely, so he’d elect for a change in scenery instead. Maybe Florida. Or Washington, or hell even France because anywhere but here was looking good. That is… if Steve still wanted any part in this mess.

“Listen to me carefully, Tony, and I say this with all the love I could ever hold.” Steve placed his hands on either side of Tony’s face, and for a second they just stood there with their gaze locked. “You need to get out of your own head. You can’t blame yourself for the sun setting at night or the grass dying in the winter, because that would happen regardless of your opinion or actions. Peter did what he did because he wanted to help people. Same as you, same as me---- and neither of us had super parents. Peter became Spider-Man because he’s got this incredible hero inside him and _that’s_ what he got from you. Compassion, and the knowledge that when you have the assets to help the little guy, that you do. He didn’t tell us because he didn’t want you to worry about him, and now that we know he’s stopped! No Spider-Man reporting’s since, and from what I can tell Peter is happy. Now can’t you claim responsibility for that? That your son is alive and well?”

Tony took a breath he didn’t know he was holding, moved Steve’s right hand to his mouth where he kissed the palm. He had no words. Not to bring the pity party downtown, but he’d never had someone read him like Steve does. To not belittle his anxiety, or blow it away to keep the illusion of the illustrious Tony Stark for their own benefit. Steve was here, even for the messy shit. It felt… strange. And he definitely had more to think about now than before but at least he didn’t feel like Atlas anymore. He just felt like Tony. And for the first time in a long time, that didn’t feel so bad.

“ _Our_ son.” Tony corrected, with a soft smile.

 

After that, they spent the rest of the day in Tony’s lab--- working on projects, wedding details, and _other_ activities that would definitely have to be erased from FRIDAY’s memory later.

 

 

x

 

 

 

Lunch couldn’t come fast enough. Peter raised his hand and answered a question wrong (with confidence) in bio, he broke his calculator in algebra, and he’d forgotten his homework altogether for Spanish. Clearly, his head was in the clouds. Or, and he hoped, in the webs.

Ned and MJ were already at their regular table by the time Peter entered, and for the first time ever he was actually disappointed to see the table full. After the events of Pho-day with Bucky & Sam, Peter decided he didn’t want to be defenseless again. Once upon a spider bite, he’d left some old prototypes of his web slingers at Ned’s just in case things at home went South or he needed a spare, and Ned had thankfully brought it with him today. Despite the fact that Peter was 99.9999% sure MJ already knew his dirty little secret, he didn’t necessarily want to flaunt it regardless. So for a good thirty minutes, Peter engaged in nervous, albeit tedious small talk with his best friends.

Peter had just nervously laughed for the fifth time when MJ finally caught onto his oddities, but before she could address it Gwen called her from the opposite table.

“Hey MJ! Settle this debate for us.”

MJ’s attention was caught, and she left with a simple “Oh, that’s like crack to me.”

Peter, nearly bursting at the seams, actually allowed her to sit down at the next table before exploding.

“did you bring it!?” He whisper-shouted. Ned was already digging through his bag and he pulled out a brown paper bag labeled ‘Peter’s lunch’. Peter snorted at the connotation but took it greedily. Having missed it for such a long time, Peter couldn’t help but just open the bag and admire it. And sure enough, in all their outdated glory were two metal web slingers from last year’s prototype.

“You are the best man-in-the-chair ever.” Peter breathed in relief. He had no immediate plans to use them, but just having some power back in his control felt like he was wielding Mjolnir.

Ned smiled wide and was about to respond when he was cut off by a voice.

“Hey Penis!”

Fuck! Quickly Peter scrambled to throw the bag in his backpack and had literally just managed it when Flash’s annoying face stood across from them.

“Flash can’t you annoy me in class? Lunch is supposed to be the good part of the day.”

Ned snorted, but silenced when Flash sent him a glare.

“What’s this I hear about you dropping out of the Decathlon team? This is the physics year, you’re just going to hang us out to dry?”

Peter couldn’t help but let the sigh he’d been harboring pass his lips. He’d been through this dance with literally everybody. MJ, Ned, Gwen, Betty, and even a few teachers and he was quite honestly a little tired of explaining that he, a high school sophomore was grounded. And he especially didn’t feel like explaining that to Flash.

“I’ve already told MJ, she knows. She’s relatively okay with it. It’s not really your business anymore.”

“That’s bullshit, Parker and you know it! You’re being selfish, and you’re doing the typical Peter thing of flaking when the team needs you most.”

“Back off Flash. Peter’s not flaking on anybody, he’s got legitimate reasons and doesn’t need this shit from you.” Ned had started to rise to the bait, but with Flash its best just to ignore him until he goes away. Like a bad itch. If you scratch it only gets worse.

“Ned----- it’s fine.” He addressed his best friend. “And Flash, this means you’re first string so instead of harping on me maybe start studying. Believe me, if I could be on the team I would, but I can’t so…” Peter let his sentence trail off and looked to the side politely asking Flash to leave. Lunch was the only time he had with his friends so it would be real great if Flash could stop ruining that.  

Flash rolled his eyes, and threw his hands up. Thankfully he left after muttering about something being “bullshit” and Peter and Ned could return to their regularly scheduled review of the previous night’s episode of Game of Thrones. For fear of another unwanted visitor interrupting Peter’s ‘look longingly at his old web tech’ time, he let the rest of lunch pass as if it were any normal day.

 

 

When the bell rang, Peter still felt antsy. He had the webs in his backpack now, but having them so close acted like a siren call. His fingers itched to feel the cool metal on his wrists and was only half there when Ned gave his parting words for fifth period. Ned had Biology while Peter had physics and instead of taking the main hallway to room 301, Peter decided to take the long way in the back. Back there was the assembly hall really only used for pep rally days and was thus left vacant today. When he reached the hallway, Peter swung his backpack around and pulled out the brown paper bag. He let his fingers glide over the shooter and its adjoining web fluid canister. In a sense it felt like drugs or firearms the way his stomach knotted at the knowledge he was letting his dad down, and yet couldn’t stop himself. When that guy attacked him last month Peter had stood still. Shock-still when he had the means and motivation to do better.

While he was debating what to do next, his skin prickled like someone had just whispered in his ear and suddenly he was at full alert. That was his sixth sense speaking. He kept one hand around the shooters, but kept the bag at his stomach safe from public eye. At the poor-lit end of the hallway he heard the door swing open and from this distance Peter couldn’t tell the face.

“Hello?” He called, feeling like one of those naïve idiots in a horror movie who goes into the basement after playing with a Ouija board. His ‘spider sense’ went off for some seemingly minuscule events and maybe right now, it was just alerting him of the consequences of being caught for skipping. When no one responded Peter tried again, “who’s there?” He hastily wrapped one of the shooters on his wrist---- just as a precaution and flexed his fingers when he felt the surge of power attached to his invention. “Marco?” He joked, hoping it was maybe Ned playing a very poor timed joke.

His spidey senses had inflamed to a full on headache by the time a body came into view, and with his bushy hair and face Peter has been dodging since kindergarten, Peter could place it instantly. “Flash? What are you doing out here?” That was unexpected.

Honestly, Peter was more than a little peeved. Flash gave him shit when he was on the team, and now that he’s off the shit has intensified! There was no winning with this kid, and frankly Peter just wanted to fanboy over his own invention in peace.

“Flash, dude, come on.” He wasn’t really sure if the ‘come on’ was meant for him to leave or to speak, but he wasn’t doing either. He raised a hand to his head as if treating a headache, shook his head and then finally dragged his eyes up to Peter.

They were cloudy.

“ _Fuck.”_ Peter whispered, as Flash started charging at him with purpose. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Was this the untitled sequel to Peter’s ironic and poorly timed life? He could either stand here and play defense, or he could use what past-Peter had given him and web him up. However, there was a chance Flash could remember this and Flash would never keep Peter’s secret. But Peter saw what that other guy did and there was no way he was just going to let rabid Flash loose in the school. In reality, there was no choice.

“Flash, snap out of it!” He tried, knowing it would fail. Flash had cleared the feet between them in a blink, and was right in front of him by the time Peter decided to damn the rules. He didn’t want to hurt Flash, so his counters had to be balanced and his punches pulled. Flash swung a wild fist out and Peter ducked, with an upturned hand that shot a web. The web missed by a wide margin, and Peter couldn’t help but blame it on being out of practice.

“stay----- still!” He struggled to get out. Flash was clearly not Flash anymore. His movements were erratic and intentionally harmful as he swiped, punched and clawed at whatever he could get at. He got a few good licks in, but Peter was fast and finally armed. He got the upper hand when he got one of Flash’s hands webbed to the wall but Flash just let out an animalistic grunt that sounded like Peter’s last name and used his other hand to claw out of it.

“Come on, dude, don’t make me do this.” Peter sighed, ducking fast to evade the next hit. Unfortunately, humans had two hands, so Flash’s other one had attached to Peter’s wrist and dragged down his skin when Peter yanked away. He cringed slightly at the pain, but focused now on directing his webbing. Peter needed Flash’s attacks to slow, so he used his foot to kick Flash back (as softly as possible) and got whatever had taken over Flash confused enough for Peter’s shot to line up. He webbed up both his hands first, and then on second thought, his legs, as a contingency plan.

Flash continued thrashing, but now his head was doing most of the work. He seemed to be at the peak intersection of confused and absolutely enraged and nothing he was mumbling was coherent. Peter was attempting to slow down his breathing now, but his chest was absolutely pounding. Flash’s head started lolling and Peter was thrown for a curve at every breath. Twenty minutes ago, Flash had been his normal, albeit annoying self. Two minutes ago, ‘Flash’ had just gone 1 v 1 against Peter in the pep rally hall, and right now Peter was wondering how much longer he’d stay conscious. There was only one thing Peter was absolutely sure of in this moment and that was that he had no fucking clue what had just happened.

 

It took a few more shuddering breaths for Peter to process the chain of events, and now Flash’s head hung low on his chest signifying a deep sleep. His chest rose & fell rhythmically meaning he was still asleep but his extremities were taped down by ultra-strength Parker-tech. Peter’s brain was essentially TV static at this point, but slowly he was realizing he’s got to do something now. He could release Flash, risk the memory confusion, and just leave him with the nurse till he claimed consciousness. Or, Peter could call for reinforcements and they could figure out what happened, if Flash would remember anything, and most importantly whether he’d be okay in the long run. Peter had never been particularly religious, but he found himself praying that he could be the kind of person to choose door number one. But he wasn’t, and there was really only one responsible solution:

He’s got to call Tony.

Well, life, it’s been a good run. But as soon as Peter brought his phone out of his bag, and tapped on the contact for his father he forged his own eulogy in his mind. Maybe Tony would believe Flash webbed himself? Maybe Peter could claim an actual spider did this damage and that Peter had just been in the wrong place, wrong time?

_Tony picked up on the first ring._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony & Peter fluff? In this economy???? Hopefully soon. But there's gonna be a lil bit more angst so buckle in. I might do a separate thing of like one shots bc this series is basically pure angst (i love that, but ya know) but we'll see. As always, let me know what you think, what characters you'd like to see more of and on a scale of 10-10 how much u love captain marvel even tho my boo aint in this. I apologize for the lateness and shortness but THANKS for sticking with me!

**Author's Note:**

> Indy plots for our Stark bois!!! Although they're going through a rough patch, it's me writing and we'll definitely get some disgusting fluff in this bih. Anyway thanks again for reading!! If there's any character you liked from the first fic (or just like in general) drop a comment bc I need to know what secondary characters to focus on aside from Tony, Peter, & Steve.


End file.
